


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by EmiAliceinWonderland



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Boys In Love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Napping, Romance, Sleepiness, Sleepy Cuddles, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:14:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9073210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiAliceinWonderland/pseuds/EmiAliceinWonderland
Summary: Five times Yuuri falls asleep on Viktor, and one time when Viktor is the sleepy one.





	

 

Yuuri won’t admit it himself, but he doesn’t exactly have a  _ normal _ sleep schedule. Most nights he can’t get to sleep until three or four in the morning, sometimes later, and sometimes blessedly earlier. He then naps during the day to catch up on the rest that insomnia has snatched from him due to worrying too much during the night. 

Viktor wants his student to always have a good night’s sleep, but, well, he can’t help finding it a  _ little  _ endearing when Yuuri begins to make a habit out of falling asleep on  _ him _ for his daytime naps.

It’s kind of adorable.

\---

i. The first time it happens is also the first time that Yuuri and Viktor properly meet face to face. It’s a time Yuuri doesn’t remember, but one that Viktor, on the other hand, cannot forget. After drinking one champagne flute after another (and another and another and another), Yuuri Katsuki - who is usually shy, reserved, quiet - is grinding on a pole with Chris.

Viktor raises his eyebrows, downs his own drink, loosens his tie, and joins in with the dance party.

It is hours later, long past midnight, when the banquet after-party finally slows down. Phichit is still snapping selfies with the remaining skaters left behind, and Chris is chatting up Jean-Jacque Leroy now in his drunken state. Viktor chuckles at the horrified look on JJ’s face as Chris shimmies closer. Viktor moves to sit down at a now-empty table, sipping on a glass of water in an attempt to sober up a little.

It’s only been a few moments of sitting quietly on his own when none other than Yuuri walks over to him on slightly wobbly feet.

“Viktor Nikiforov!” he exclaims gleefully, his tie still wrapped around his head in a way that should look stupid but instead looks so cute that Viktor wants to kiss him. 

“Katsuki Yuuri,” Viktor says back, smiling at the drunken boy in front of him, “sit down, you must be tired after all that dancing,” he adds, pulling out the chair next to him for Yuuri.

Yuuri nods his head emphatically, and then looks a little queasy as if the motion made him dizzy. He sits down heavily next to Viktor. “I am tired,” he says, looking up at Viktor with big brown eyes, “I am...wow,” he breathes out, puffing his cheeks out in a way that makes Viktor chuckle, “I am  _ so  _ tired, Viktor Nikiforov.”

“You don’t have to call me by my full name, you know,” Viktor smiles.

“Hmm,” Yuuri answers non-committedly, like he didn’t really even take in what Viktor had said. In fact, by the look on his face, he definitely didn’t. His eyelids are dropping shut, and his shoulders have sagged. He clearly wasn’t kidding when he said he was tired.

“D’ya know…” Yuuri starts, his words slurred from exhaustion and alcohol. He moves closer to Viktor to lean against him and Viktor welcomes the warmth of another body pressed to his side. The smell of Yuuri’s hair is comforting, a light strawberry scent that somehow makes Viktor’s heart clench in his chest.

(He doesn’t know how a few hours of dancing have embedded this boy into his chest already, feelings that Viktor hasn’t felt for anyone in a long time intertwined deeply through his ribcage just from the few touches and glances they had shared over the night. He knows it’s madness to think it but he hopes Yuuri wasn’t joking when he asked Viktor to be his coach.)

As Yuuri sags further against him, his body almost melting into a formless shape, Viktor catches him against his chest with a strong arm around his shoulders.

“Do I know what...?” Viktor asks softly in regards to Yuuri’s unfinished sentence. He ducks his head down so Yuuri can hear him and his lips brush against the other boy’s soft hair. Yuuri shifts a little, moving impossibly closer in to snuggle against Viktor’s chest. Viktor’s stomach turns with butterflies and he lets out a long, measured breath.

“Oh,” Yuuri says quietly. “I was gonna...say,” he sighs against Viktor’s chest, his cheek pressed firmly into Viktor’s shirt. “I was gonna say I didn’t sleep all night last night,” he glances up at Viktor from underneath dark eyelashes, blinking a few times to emphasis his point. “I never sleep before competitions.”

“Is that so?” Viktor replies, subconsciously squeezing his hand around Yuuri’s arm a little tighter, feeling strangely protective of this drunken boy who is falling asleep almost in his lap. “You should always try to get a good night’s sleep. Especially before a competition, a well-rested skater is the best performer…”

Viktor trails off when he realises that Yuuri has started making tiny snuffling sounds against his chest, the starts of snores. His mouth is open a little, and Viktor is sure if he doesn’t move him drool will end up on his dress shirt. Somehow he finds himself not caring. He smiles, and reaches to gently unknot the tie from around Yuuri’s forehead so he won’t get a headache, tucking it carefully into his own pocket to keep it safe.

\---

ii. “I can tell you worked your very hardest today, Yuuri,” Viktor says happily as he dips his toes into the water of his now beloved onsen spring at Hasetsu. “If you put in effort like that every day you’ll be winning gold in no time,” he continues, pride and praise full in his voice as he undoes his robe and sinks himself fully into the hot water of the onsen next to Yuuri with a sigh.

“...Uhh,” Yuuri replies.

“What was that?” Viktor asks, a smile tugging at his lips as he looks over to see Yuuri blinking blearily at him.

“Thank you,” Yuuri repeats. a little clearer, though the end still sounds like a slurred “uhh”.

Viktor chuckles and wraps a confident arm around Yuuri’s warm bare back. “Maybe I worked you a little  _ too  _ hard,” he wonders out loud, rubbing the fingers of his free hand into Yuuri’s shoulder blade where he feels tension.

“Mmm,” Yuuri lets out, closing his eyes as he leans into Viktor, his palms floating easily in the water around him as he lets himself relax. “Feels good.” 

“So tense…” Viktor mutters in Russian as he works his thumb to get a particularly bad knot out of Yuuri’s back. By the time he is satisfied that Yuuri will be a little more comfortable, and at least pliant and warm in terms of his muscles after a soak in the onsen, he realises that he’s been so focused that he hadn’t noticed his student moving closer to him, their thighs pressed together under the water, Viktor supporting almost all of Yuuri’s weight with his hands on his back and shoulders and arms, and Yuuri’s side firmly against Viktor’s chest. 

At some point Yuuri must have dropped his head to rest on Viktor’s shoulder, his warm, soft cheek squished into the crook of Viktor’s neck, his chest moving up and down with slow, relaxed breaths.

Viktor spends the next twenty minutes debating whether he should try to wake Yuuri up and help him out of the onsen and up to his bedroom, or leave him asleep completely and somehow carry him up there.

After all, he needs a plan of action if Yuuri is going to make a habit out of falling asleep on him.

\---

iii. The plane ride to China from Japan is not a particularly long flight, especially compared to the journeys from Russia that Viktor usually has to take. However, Yuuri is exhausted after a night of no sleep. It hadn’t taken long for Viktor to determine his student as a perpetual insomniac; one of the poor skaters who couldn’t sleep at all before competitions due to worry and nerves. In the back of his mind, he remembers a drunken Yuuri from months ago telling him that he never slept before competitions.

Right now Yuuri is next to him in the window seat of the economy class plane, with his mask and glasses on, his neck and chin tucked down into the warmth of his hoodie and jacket.

He looks  _ adorable. _

For once, he hasn’t fallen asleep leaning against Viktor, perhaps because he had been acutely aware of and anxious about the few people, particulary a couple of girls who were clearly fans, who had been staring and whispering at them as they boarded the plane. The same girls are staring right now from a few rows down, actually, and Viktor gives them a bright smile, no where near as fazed by public attention as Yuuri is.

Viktor doesn’t know if it’s a selfish thought or not, but he convinces himself that Yuuri looks a little uncomfortable napping on his own like that, and the last thing he needs before a competition is a stiff neck. So with an easy, confident movement and a deliberate look to the girls whispering he hooks an arm around Yuuri’s warm lax body and pulls him into his chest.

He feels more at home immediately.

The feeling of Yuuri against him, subconsciously snuffling closer and leaning heavier against him in his sleep is enough to warm Viktor’s whole body. He gives Yuuri a short squeeze, unable to resist hugging the smaller boy, but not wanting to wake him.

He sighs happily, thinking of taking a nap for himself now that Yuuri is safe in his arms. He drops a feather-light kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri smiles in his sleep. Viktor sees the flash of a phone camera a few seats down. He closes his eyes and rests his cheek on top of Yuuri’s strawberry scented hair.

\---

iv. Dinner with everyone, all their friends, their fellow skaters, is lovely, and the rings on Viktor and Yuuri’s hands only serve to make the company sweeter. Yuuri is embarrassed by Phichit’s teasing of a wedding, but Viktor secretly likes the attention on his and Yuuri’s relationship. He wants everyone to know that he is committed to this boy in more ways than just being his coach.

It’s rather ironic to Viktor, though, who knows Yuuri completely now, when the teasing turns from their relationship to Yuuri’s obvious tiredness. Chris laughs as he calls Yuuri an old man for being sleepy at only eight o’clock at night. If only he knew that Yuuri’s usual bedtime was five in the morning.

“He didn’t sleep well,” Viktor mutters in lieu of a proper explanation as Yuuri looks across at him, his gaze vacant in a way that Viktor has come to recognise easily. He reaches over and brushes Yuuri’s fringe away from his forehead. They can’t leave yet. Most of them at the table have ordered dessert or coffee that is yet to arrive, and it would be rude to go back to their hotel room before the dinner is properly over, not when they are so rarely all together in one country with time to relax like this.

Viktor shuffles a little closer to Yuuri on the soft seat bench they are sharing on, one end of the restaurant table, when there is a lull in the conversation. “Do you wanna lean on me?” he whispers so as to not embarrass Yuuri in front of the others.  

Yuuri looks up at him, blinks, sighs, and then reluctantly nods his head. “Don’t let me nap for too long,” he says quietly, resigned to the fact that he’ll collapse on zero hours sleep if he doesn’t close his eyes for at least ten minutes right now.

“I’ll wake you up when we’re leaving,” Viktor promises, pulling Yuuri closer to him as the other boy drops his head to rest on Viktor’s shoulder. The weight of Yuuri’s head against his upper arm sends a familiar warmth through Viktor’s chest. Within five minutes Yuuri is asleep, his mouth open, breathing slowly and eyes tight closed, Phichit has already snapped numerous photos of Yuuri leaning on Viktor and has probably already uploaded them to Instagram complete with captions. Viktor hopes Yuuri won’t mind.

Conversation resumes and desserts start arriving. Viktor wonders if Yuuri might wake up with the smell of the chocolate pudding he’d ordered, but he stays out like a light so Viktor leaves him be, eating awkwardly with his clumsy left hand attempting to poke around at his own pudding so as not to have to take his right arm away from where it is cuddling Yuuri, holding him close and safe.

\---

v. “Mr. Nikiforov! Katsuki Yuuri!” a lady with a microphone and a camera man next to her calls out, waving frantically as Yuuri and Viktor walk past her out of the stadium to get back to their Barcelona hotel.

Viktor is not a rude man, and usually accepts any interview or photo opportunity he is offered, but when Yuuri’s well-being is involved? Well, he can be a little less polite.

“Yuuri needs his rest!” he calls back over his shoulder to the reporter who looks crestfallen. He doesn’t even feel bad about it.

Yuuri is trudging along next to him, looking like the weight of the medal around his neck is enough to pull him down, although his face is set with a content smile. He’s not upset, just tired.

“You know, I don’t have any pity for you being exhausted - that’s what happens when you decide to add a quad flip as the last component of your program,” Viktor says teasingly, ducking his head towards Yuuri as he wraps an arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders. Yuuri grumbles something that Viktor doesn’t quite catch, but smiles up at him anyway and leans into his touch.

Viktor can’t stop himself from leaning down to press a tiny, soft peck to Yuuri’s lips. He hears the click of a camera as they leave the building, and catches Yuuri’s cheeks blushing red.

Viktor helps Yuuri’s lax body into the taxi that is waiting outside to take them back to their hotel. Yuuri mutters a quiet thank you in Japanese as Viktor helps him strap in, clicking Yuuri’s seat belt into place for him. Viktor smiles at the way he sometimes lapses back into his native tongue when he’s exhausted.

It takes only two minutes of driving through the city traffic, the lull of the taxi, the quiet background noise of the radio, and the comforting warmth of the inside of the car for Yuuri to drift to sleep. A few moments before, he had reached out a hand to Viktor, turning in his seat to face the other man, before closing his eyes when Viktor had returned the touch and laced his fingers with Yuuri’s.

Viktor turns to the side in his own seat, resting his own cheek against the headrest of his seat so he can look at Yuuri. He smiles to himself; Yuuri looks so at peace, so sweet, so innocent, so different to the way he is when he’s performing Eros or the way he is when he’s panicking before a competition.

Viktor rubs his thumb back and forth over the back of Yuuri’s hand, sweeping in soothing movements. He reaches out with his free hand to brush some of Yuuri’s dark hair off his forehead, a strand that had escaped the gel he usually used to comb it back for competitions. With gentle fingers Viktor slowly removes Yuuri’s glasses too, so he won’t get a red mark on the bridge of his nose. He tucks the glasses into the breast pocket of his own jacket, safe and sound for when Yuuri wakes up.

Yuuri lets out a murmur in his sleep, sunlight shines through the window of the taxi and glints against the gold of their rings nestled next to each other on their intertwined fingers and then to the shiny silver of Yuuri’s medal.

Viktor’s heart swells with contentment.

\---

(+ 1) 

  
At this years banquet Yuuri has no reason to get blindly drunk again. He wants to have fun but he is  _ not _ under any circumstances repeating the events of last year. He sips at his second champagne flute as he talks with Phichit after the meal. He is slightly tipsy, but barely so, just warm and relaxed enough that he can actually  _ enjoy  _ the party, rather than being on edge and anxious about it. 

Viktor on the other hand, is a little bit past tipsy.

He had claimed he was allowed more to drink because he had helped coach not one, but two, skaters to new world records, and of course Chris had plied him with red wine, filling up Viktor’s glass and his own whenever Yuuri wasn’t looking.

Yuuri sighs, though  fond, when he looks over to see Viktor intensely dance battling with Chris and JJ. They have been going at it for about an hour now. Even Phichit had stopped taking photos and recording video in favour to sit with Yuuri and watch from afar.

“Yuuri!” Viktor calls out in a delighted sing-song when he sees the other boy looking at him. Yuuri smiles back, raising his eyebrows at Viktor.

“Come here!” Viktor calls out, shouting a lot louder than is neccesary. Phichit laughs and Yuuri can’t help but let out a chuckle too as he puts his champagne flute down on the table and obliges Viktor by walking up to the dance floor to him. Viktor immediately launches himself at Yuuri when he’s within range, wrapping his long arms around him and hugging him so tight Yuuri struggles a little to keep himself balanced.

“Vitya!” Yuuri gasps out, laughing as he steadies them both with his arms around Viktor’s strong back. “You’re drunk,” he states when he fails to untangle himself from Viktor. He really is holding on very tightly.

“I’m never letting you go,” Viktor slurs, tightening his arms around Yuuri so hard that it actually kind of hurts, “Never ever ever ever,” he rambles.

“Okay, okay,” Yuuri says breathlessly, trying once again in vain to get Viktor to loosen his grip a little. “I understand, and I won’t let you go either, but you don’t need to actually  _ physically   _ never let me go.”

“Hm…”

“Viktor…?”

“...Mm?”

“Are you falling asleep on me?” Yuuri asks after a few moments. Viktor is still clinging on to Yuuri, though his arms are a little more relaxed now. His body is relaxed and warm and heavy as he leans further into Yuuri, snuggling his face into Yuuri’s neck with a sleepy little grunt. 

Yuuri sighs as he realises he’s going to have to get a half-asleep clingy Viktor off the dance floor and  back to their hotel room. The warmth and solid weight of the other man drifting off against him is undeniably a nice feeling, though. Comforting, peaceful, safe. With a shy smile, and a glance around at the other people at the party he presses a kiss to the parting of Viktor’s hair.

Really, after all the times he’s fallen asleep on Viktor in the past year, he can’t complain. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments very appreciated <3


End file.
